


As Expected

by RubyCaspar



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Post S3, pff, reunion smut, this has taken me literally a year to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCaspar/pseuds/RubyCaspar
Summary: Jack has made it to London and is desperate to see Phryne - only problem is it's the middle of the night.





	As Expected

**Author's Note:**

> So when I say this has taken me a year, I mean it completely literally. I checked the creation date of the doc and it is genuinely 6th April 2017. I've been adding a little bit at a time every month, when I realise it's PFF day again and I still haven't finished it. But now, it is FINALLY FINISHED!! 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It was late evening by the time Jack finally reached his hotel in Piccadilly. It had been a long, tiring journey from Southampton, preceded by weeks of uneasy rest and indifferent food aboard the ship from Australia. By rights, the only thing on Jack’s mind should be a hot bath, a change of clothes, and a good night’s sleep.

 

And he did want all of those things, desperately. But he also wanted to see Phryne.

 

It wasn’t really much later than some of the evenings he’d arrived at Wardlow for a nightcap in the past, but he really _did_ need to bathe. And shave. And sleep. He was already going to be arriving on the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher’s doorstep unannounced - he didn’t want to do so dirty, unshaven, crumpled and half-awake. He owed himself - and her - better than that.

 

Still, it took an awful lot of willpower for him to run a bath rather than dump his suitcase and rush to her house, and he found himself too restless to relax and soak once he had. He got clean, shaved off the stubble on his cheeks, and combed his hair but, when it came time to dress, he found himself pulling on his least rumpled suit, rather than his pyjamas. He _was_ tired, but it was a restless kind of weariness. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep yet, so decided a walk would do him some good.

 

It was a fairly mild night for the time of year, but even so a mild November night in London was quite a bit colder than most nights in Melbourne, and Jack was grateful for his foresight in bringing his rarely-worn woolen overcoat - it was getting on for eight years old now and not exactly the height of fashion, but at least it kept him warm. The streets were far from quiet - there were too many hotels, too many clubs and bars and theatres in that part of London for it to ever be truly deserted. Jack observed the revellers as he passed them, wondering if Phryne was one of them that night, and whether he would be one of them another night… or whether they wouldn't bother leaving her house.

 

God, he wanted to see her. Why had his train had to get in so late?

 

It was truly late now, almost midnight, and Jack was starting to feel the hour, so he turned his steps towards his hotel. He took a circuitous route, not following the roads he'd come by, and soon found himself in a quiet residential street lined with four storey terraced houses.

 

If anyone had asked he would have said he'd just got a little turned around, but as he approached number 57 there was no one for him to lie to but himself.

 

It was identical to the houses either side of it, with nothing to mark it as special, but Jack’s heart rate picked up just looking at it. Phryne was just inside ( _maybe_ , his common sense supplied) and that made it the most important place in London as far as Jack was concerned.

 

And then a light came on, and Jack’s heart practically stuttered.

 

The light was in the downstairs right-hand window, the room that was the parlour in her Melbourne home, and the location of it seemed too coincidental for Jack to ignore. He indulged for a moment in the fantasy that she'd seen him out of the window, and had turned the light on before running to her front door, but as the minutes passed and the door remained shut with no signs of opening, Jack knew that that wasn't what had happened. Phryne hadn't seen him. It was well past midnight and she would either be out on the town or asleep, and he should get back to his hotel, get some sleep himself and return in the morning.

 

But still… there was a light.

 

Cursing under his breath at his lack of willpower, Jack jogged up the front steps and knocked on the door before he could debate with himself any further. He didn’t put much force into it, but the heavy cast iron knocker still came down with a sound that seemed to reverberate around the silent street. He winced.

 

This was a ridiculous idea.

 

For a long few moments there was no answer to the sound, and Jack was just starting to wonder if he dared try the knocker again when there came the sound of locks being thrown back, and the door opened a few inches to reveal a man in a butler’s uniform, though in his shirtsleeves and wearing an apron. He was some ten years or so older than Mr Butler, but Jack was reminded forcefully of the man, and he almost smiled before recollecting that to this man he was a stranger, knocking on the door in what might as well be the middle of the night.

 

“Good evening,” the man said. His tone made it very clear that only decades of training in polite service had enticed him to open the door.

 

“Good evening,” Jack replied, taking off his hat and holding it awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know it’s very late, but I saw the light on and…” his voice trailed off. The man’s face hadn’t changed. Jack shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t suppose Miss Fisher is…”

 

“Miss Fisher has retired for the evening,” the man said shortly.

 

Jack nodded, ignoring the swooping feeling of disappointment in his stomach. Well, what had he expected? Yes she had late nights, but not every night, and it wasn’t as though she’d known he was coming. But to have gotten this close only to have to wait until the morning…

 

“Of course,” he said with some effort. “Could I please leave a message?”

“Yes sir.” Jack was clearly beginning to grate on the poor man now, and he was regretting his decision to walk this way more and more with every passing second.

“Could you please tell her that Jack Robinson called and that I’m staying at the Wyndmere, and that I’ll call again tomorrow,” he said. He started patting at the pockets of his overcoat. “Here, I have a card somewhere.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the man, opening the door all the way. “Please come in, Inspector.”

 

Jack froze with his hand in his inside pocket, and stared at the man, who was now standing to the side and holding the door open for him. Behind him was a long but narrow hallway, dimly lit by a candelabra on a side table. Stairs climbed up into darkness.

 

He was looking at Jack expectantly, and Jack realised he was gaping back at him. He had called him _Inspector_ \- a title he himself hadn’t used. Which meant that the man knew who he was.

 

Which meant that Phryne had told her butler to expect him.

 

Jack wasn’t sure whether to feel elated that she’d mentioned him to her London staff, or annoyed that his plans to surprise her with his presence in London were being thrown out of order. He stepped over the threshold, still unsure about this turn of events, and the man closed the door behind him.

 

The butler flipped a light switch on the wall and two wall mounted lamps blazed into life, filling the hallway with a soft orange glow.

 

“May I take your coat, sir?”

 

Jack mutely handed over his hat and then shrugged off his overcoat, handing it over as well. His mind was still whirring. When he’d been invited in he’d expected to find that Phryne was actually still awake, having a nightcap in her parlour as she so often did, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t see into any of the rooms off of the hallway, but the house was silent. He was sure that Phryne would have come to investigate who was at her door at such a late hour if she really were downstairs. Perhaps she wasn’t here at all and the man was going to ask him to wait for her.

 

Which he would.

 

Jack watched the man hang up his coat, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Didn’t you say that Miss Fisher had retired?” He asked.

 

The man turned back to face him. “Yes, but she has given strict instructions that you are to be admitted at any time,” he said.

 

Jack’s heart leapt, and he couldn’t contain a small smile. The butler noticed, and Jack could see he was biting back a smile as well. Jack fought to keep his voice and face under control, and nodded sagely. “I see,” he said. “Even so, you don’t need to disturb her on my account.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” said the butler, turning away from him and picking up the candelabra from the side table. He held it out to Jack. “You will find Miss Fisher on the first floor - the second door on your left.”

 

Jack’s expression froze as the implication of what the man was saying hit him all at once. He was actually telling Jack to go up to her bedroom. Where she was sleeping. By himself. Is this what Phryne had told him to do? She’d apparently specifically instructed her staff to admit him even in the middle of the night - should he assume from this that she’d also told them to send him straight to her bed?

 

Quite honestly, it was exactly the kind of thing Phryne would do. Jack could well imagine her delight in telling her staff to send a man straight up to her bedroom should he come calling in the middle of the night - it would be a test of the sensibilities of her staff, and also of Jack’s resolution.

 

Well, her butler was certainly passing the test with flying colours. Now it was up to Jack to do the same.

 

The butler was looking at him expectantly, humour definitely dancing his eyes now at Jack’s obvious shock, and Jack straightened his shoulders and took the candelabra from him.

 

“Thank you, Mr…?”

 

“Matheson, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr Matheson,” said Jack, glad to find his voice didn’t betray his sudden nervousness.

 

Nervousness. _Honestly_ . He was too old to be _nervous_. But then, the last time he’d entered a woman’s bedroom in the middle of the night had been when he was married and working late, and he would always take great care to let Rosie sleep, even when they were newlyweds.

 

He had a feeling that Phryne Fisher was expecting him to wake her up. The thought made Jack's heart beat so fast he could feel it in his throat.

“You’re welcome,” replied Mr Matheson. “Good night, Inspector.”

 

With that, he opened the door nearest to him, the room which still had lights on, and disappeared into it, leaving Jack alone in the hallway with his candles and a flight of stairs leading to the woman he loved.

 

And that was the thought that finally got Jack moving - yes, Phryne had thrown him a little by her groundwork with her staff, but she’d been throwing him off centre since the day he’d met her. He loved that about her, and he’d missed having her by his side to do so every single day that they’d been apart. Now, finally, she was just at the top of a staircase and through a door, and they’d been apart for long enough already.

 

The light from the hallway was enough to get him up the stairs without too much trouble, but when he turned at the top of the stairs he found the upstairs hallway to be totally dark. He held up the candelabra to shed as much candlelight over the scene as possible, and placed his left hand flat on the wall before moving forward. He felt a doorway straight away, and moved passed it, his steps lengthening as he grew used to the darkness. Moments later he felt another doorway - _the second door on the left._

 

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

 

The room was dark, but a small gap in the heavy curtains allowed in a thin shaft of light from the street lamps outside. The room was narrower than Phryne’s bedroom at Wardlow, and so Jack found himself only a couple of yards away from the large double bed in the middle of the room.

 

It was too dark to make out her features, but Jack could see that Phryne was lying on her back, her face towards him, one hand on the pillow beside her. She didn't stir as he closed the door behind him.

 

It occurred to Jack that he had never seen Phryne asleep before. Unconscious, yes, but not simply asleep. The light lines around her eyes were smoothed out, making her look younger, innocent. Jack smirked at the thought of the word _innocent_ applying to Phryne Fisher. But most of all she looked peaceful, so peaceful that he wondered for a moment if he should wake her up at all - perhaps he should just… what? Leave? He knew he couldn't, now that he was here. Climb into her bed and go to sleep? He couldn't possibly do such a thing without her permission. Continue to stand there and stare at her like a gormless idiot?

 

No. He knew what Phryne would want him to do.

 

There was a lamp on the bedside table nearest Jack, draped with what looked like a purple silk scarf, and he figured that if he was going to wake Phryne up it would go better for him if she could actually see him properly… who knew where she kept that gun of hers while she slept. He carefully set the candelabra down, and then turned on the lamp. Its light was muted by the scarf draped over it, creating a sort of blue glow in the room, and Jack quickly leant forward to blow out the candles.

 

She turned her face slightly away from the light, but other than that didn't stir.

 

Jack sat down on the edge of her bed, by her waist. The mattress dipped with his weight, and Phryne's head moved again. She was frowning slightly.

 

Jack took a deep breath to try and steady his racing heart and reached out to touch her shoulder. “Phryne?” He said softly. She turned her face towards him, her eyelids twitching. Jack squeezed her shoulder gently and then slid his hand up to cup her cheek. “Phryne.”

 

Phryne turned her head, pressing into his palm. “Jack,” she sighed, her eyes still closed.

 

Jack took another deep breath at the sound, and then held it as her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him, blinking sleepily.

 

Jack smiled. “Good evening, Miss Fisher,” he said.

 

Phryne smiled softly and raised her hand to cover his own. “Jack… you’re here,” she said.

 

Jack tilted his head. “I am,” he said, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Mr Matheson was most insistent that I come straight up.”

 

Phryne blinked again, and looked at him with clearer eyes. Her hand tightened on his and her other hand shot up to clutch the sleeve, before running her hand up his arm to her shoulder. “You’re really here,” she said incredulously, breathlessly.

 

Jack grinned. “I really am,” he said. His grin turned rueful. “As expected, apparently.”

 

Phryne sat up and threw her arms around his neck, moving so quickly that Jack was rocked back and had to scramble slightly to both keep his balance and put his arms around her in return. Balance attained, he pulled her tight to him, letting out a ragged breath, overcome by the feel of against him, her warmth, her smell, the touch of the silk of her nightgown under his hands. Her face was pressed against his neck; he turned his into her hair and sighed with the relief of finally holding her again.

 

They stayed that way for several long moments, breathing each other in. Eventually Jack ran his hand up her back to stroke her hair. “Should I worry that I’m predictable?” He asked.

 

Phryne pulled away from him just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were glittering in the lamplight.

 

“You’re just about the least predictable thing in my life, Jack,” she said softly.

 

Jack reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. It was so soft.

 

“But you knew I was coming,” he pointed out.

 

Phryne shook her head. “No, I just hoped,” she said.

 

Jack’s breath caught, but before he could even try to think of anything to say Phryne was kissing him, and his mind was otherwise occupied. Jack had imagined kissing Phryne again dozens of different ways, conjuring scenario after scenario for their reunion, but he’d never imagined that their very first kiss after being apart would take place on her bed in the middle of the night. Not that her bed hadn’t appeared in his fantasies - for it certainly _had_ \- but never as the starting point. It gave the kiss an edge, an expectation that he hadn’t intended. He didn’t want Phryne to think that he’d come here in the middle of the night with the intention of seducing her - he’d just wanted to _see_ her, he’d missed her, he’d -

 

Phryne scrambled onto her knees on the mattress, still kissing him, and flung a leg out from under her bed clothes so that she could straddle his lap. Jack stopped thinking.

 

Phryne took advantage of her new position immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his as she deepened the kiss. Jack moaned, and felt Phryne smile against his lips in response. Jack replied by squeezing her side, and this time she giggled. Jack smiled in response, and Phryne pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss. She ran her hand down the lapels of his jacket and then gave them a small tug.

 

“You’re wearing an awful amount of layers, Jack,” she said in a low voice.

 

Jack swallowed. “It’s cold outside,” he said.

 

Phryne smirked. “Good thing we’re not outside, then,” she said, before sliding her hands under his jacket and starting to push it off of his shoulders, leaning forward to kiss him again at the same time.

 

It occurred to Jack that this was his last chance to put a stop to this: if he let it go further there was no way he’d have the ability to pull away. But even as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it - he didn’t want to stop. This might not have been why he’d come here the instant he arrived, but he couldn’t deny it was something he’d been wanting, and there was also no denying that Phryne wanted it too from the way she was pushing insistently at his jacket.

 

Jack gave her waist another quick squeeze before letting go of her to shuck his jacket. He felt Phryne grin against his lips and he threaded his hands into her hair, holding her in place while he plundered her mouth. Phryne wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing as close as she could, and ground down on his groin. Jack groaned, and Phryne went for his tie, tugging it free of his waistcoat.

 

Phryne pulled back once it was unknotted, her hands on both ends of his tie, and got to her feet next to the bed. Her hair was mussed and her lips were swollen, and her eyes were black and glittering as she tugged on the tie, pulling Jack to his feet as well. His hands went to her hips, and he rested his forehead against hers, taking a shaky breath before bending his head to kiss her deeply. Phryne moaned, and Jack’s heart stuttered at the sound.

 

They began pawing at each other’s clothes. There was no finesse to it, no grace, as they did their best to get out of their clothes without letting go of each other. Phryne kissed her way along Jack’s collarbone as she pushed away his shirt; she laughed against his shoulder as he stumbled taking off his shoes. Jack swallowed Phryne’s gasp as his hands slid under her shift to cover her breasts, and gasped himself when her hand slid down to grasp his cock as he worked on pushing down his trousers.

 

Then they were on the bed, limbs entangling and breaths mingling as they swallowed each other’s moans. Jack felt like he was drowning in silk, and couldn’t decide what was smoother - Phryne’s satin sheets, or her skin. The dual sensations of the bed under him while Phryne writhed on top of him had Jack panting against her neck, his fingers clutching at her hips as he tried desperately to retain some control of his senses. Marshalling his strength, he flipped them over so that Phryne was under him, and bent his head to her breast before she could say anything. His tongue darted out to swirl around one rosy nipple, before he sucked it into his mouth. Phryne’s back arched, and she called out his name as her hands landed on the back of his head, clamping his mouth against her. He hummed his pleasure around her flesh, and slid his hand down her side and across the crease of her thigh to her centre. She gasped out a moan as his fingers skimmed over her clit.

 

“Oh, god, Jack! Don’t stop!”

 

He couldn’t if he wanted to - and lord knows he didn’t want to. She was hot and wet against his fingers, and when he dipped two of them inside her she clenched her fingers in his hair, tugging to the point of pain. Jack changed the angle of his hand, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit while he began to pump his fingers inside of her in a steady rhythm.

 

Phryne flung her head back against the pillows and lifted her leg, hooking her calf over Jack’s lower back, keeping him pressed tightly against her as he continued to work her with his hand and his mouth. His cock was grinding into her thigh, seeking the friction and heat that his fingers were experiencing in its place. Phryne slid her hands down to his shoulders, raking her nails over the skin as he took the opportunity to lift his head and turn his attention to her other breast.

 

“Oh Jack, _Jack_ -”

 

God help him, he loved the sound of her gasping his name. He bit gently on the side of her breast and then shifted up to kiss her - she grabbed hold of his head in her hands and thrust her tongue into his mouth in time with his fingers in her body. Once more, twice, and she cried out against his lips as her body went rigid with her release, her back arching and her leg tightening against his backside, pressing his erection into her hip, holding his hand in place as she clenched around his fingers.

 

Jack lifted his head and watched her as she rode the crest of the wave - she was exquisite. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of her release when he felt so close to his own, and rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing deeply to get a hold of himself. He didn’t realise his fingers were still stroking inside of her until her hand encircled his wrist, stalling his movements.

 

Jack lifted his head to meet Phryne’s eyes - she looked sated, and thoroughly ravished, and Jack had never seen anything so beautiful as when she smiled softly at him before pulling him up for another kiss. He gently extracted his fingers, and allowed himself to be pushed onto his back, Phryne settling on top of him like a blanket, still kissing him. The kiss was softer than any they’d shared since they’d begun this, and Phryne pulled away before Jack could deepen it.

 

“Well Jack,” she whispered against his lips, “I usually wake up before that happens, so I’m guessing this time you’re not a dream.”

 

Jack let out a surprised laugh, and his arms wrapped around her back, holding her close to him. “It feels rather like a dream to me, Miss Fisher,” he said lowly.

 

Phryne leant down and kissed him again, hard and quick, before pulling back. “Hold that thought,” she said, before placing her knees either side of his waist and sitting up. Jack’s hand’s fell to her hips, and she leant over to open the drawer of her bedside table. Jack had managed to gain some control of himself during their short interlude but now, feeling her wet heat against his skin and the graze of her behind against his erection was making his breath come faster again.

 

“If I’d known to expect you, I would have been better prepared,” Phryne was saying as she clearly searched for something. “But as it is - ha!”

 

She settled back astride him, a condom packet in her hand. Jack swallowed as she tore it open with her teeth.

 

“Well, my apologies Miss Fisher,” he said.

 

Phryne grinned at him as she rose up on her knees and shuffled backwards so she was poised over his legs instead. With no preamble whatsoever she reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, causing Jack’s head to fall back with a groan.

 

“Phryne…”

 

Phryne’s hand skimmed lightly up to the head and back down, a feather-light touch that made Jack grit his teeth.

 

“Mmmm… Jack you have no idea how beautiful you look,” said Phryne.

 

Jack huffed. “I think that - god!” His voice cut off with a groan as Phryne bent her head and licked him from root to tip, before kissing the head and sitting back up.

 

She grinned at him. “Later,” she said, her eyes full of promise.

 

Phryne didn’t give him a chance to respond - with quick, practised movements she rolled the condom onto him, and then surged forward and kissed him deeply, tangling her hand in his hair and her tongue in his mouth. Jack slid his hand up her spine to between her shoulder blades, moaning against the onslaught of her kiss, before Phryne pulled away, sucking on his bottom lip as she went.

 

Jack swallowed hard, his hands falling to her hips again. “Phryne…”

 

Phryne caught his eye and didn’t look away as she rose up on her knees, smoothed her hand over his cock again, and slid down on him, taking him in to the base. Jack closed his eyes as his breath left him in a rush, and his hands tightened on Phryne’s hips. The feel of her was simply exquisite, hot and tight around him, and he felt like he could easily drown in the sensation. And she wasn’t even moving yet.

 

Jack forced his eyes open, and it seemed that that was the cue Phryne had been waiting for - she swivelled her hips, and Jack gasped, his hips jerking against her. “Oh god - Phryne -”

 

Phryne spread her hands over his ribs and smirked. “Hold on tightly, Inspector.” Then she rose up on her knees before thrusting down on him again.

 

Jack did as he was told, grasping her hips so tightly he was sure he was leaving bruises, and concentrated on matching Phryne thrust for thrust, pistoning his hips upwards as she rose and fell. She was glorious, Aphrodite walking on earth, and Jack couldn’t look away. He raised his knees behind her, and Phryne started to gasp with each movement. Jack’s hips stuttered, the sounds making him start to lose control. He was close - it had been so long, and Phryne was just too exquisite; he could feel his release building inside of him, the familiar pressure at the base of his spine.

 

Jack slid his hand up her side, palming her breast before massaging the nipple with the pad of his thumb. Phryne groaned and covered his hand with hers, sitting back against his bent legs and arching her back, her head falling back as she moaned his name. Jack’s other hand slid across her leg so he could press his thumb against her clit, desperate to see her come again before he did. Phryne gasped and her rhythm broke before speeding up. Jack’s hips snapped up to meet her, thrusting in time, but soon he was losing the rhythm as he struggled to hold on. Through hooded eyes he saw Phryne lift her head to look at him, and a moment later she moved her hand to press her palm over his heart.

 

“Jack - let go,” she said.

 

Jack blinked and met her gaze more firmly. He wanted to say _you first_ but he couldn’t speak - instead he grit his teeth and pressed his thumb more firmly against her clit. Phryne gasped, then raked her nails over his chest, catching on his nipple and twisting it slightly as she broke her rhythm, landing on his cock with a bounce. 

 

And he was gone. 

 

Jack threw his head back, his eyes slamming shut as white heat flashed through his body, from the base of his spine outwards. He thought he shouted Phryne’s name, but he couldn’t be sure - his blood was rushing in his ears and he couldn’t hear what it was he said, plus after a moment he heard Phryne’s voice join his in calling out, felt the same tightening of her inner muscles that he’d felt earlier, this time clamping on his cock. He let go. 

 

When Jack felt he could move again, he was lying flat on his back, his chest heaving, with Phryne half on top of him, her face buried in his neck, breathing heavily as well. Jack ran his hand up her spine to stroke her hair, and he felt her smile against his skin. 

 

A moment later, she raised her head to look at him, and he amended his earlier assessment - _this_ was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. “Hello Jack,” she said softly, before dipping her head to kiss him. Jack cupped the back of her head and didn’t try to deepen the kiss - neither did Phryne, and after a few moments she pulled away, her eyes twinkling. “I hope you haven’t paid for your hotel in advance, darling, because you’re not going to get much use out of it.”

 

Jack grinned. 

 

They traded soft kisses until they had their breath back, and then rearranged themselves so that they were under the covers. Phryne settled herself against Jack’s side and burrowed against him with a happy smile when his arms wrapped around her. 

 

“I’m so glad you came after me,” she said softly. 

 

Jack nudged her nose with his. “I couldn’t keep away,” he said truthfully. Phryne’s smile widened, and Jack pulled her closer. “You know, as grateful as I am to have you in my arms right now, I have to say it was highly irresponsible of you to tell your staff to send me straight up to your bedroom in the middle of the night. I mean, anyone could have given their name as Jack Robinson and been admitted.”

 

Phryne smirked. “I did give Mr Matheson a detailed description,” she said. 

 

“Even so.”

 

Phryne sat up, and Jack’s arms fell away from her. “You’re right, this _is_ highly irresponsible,” she said primly. She tugged down the sheet covering Jack and nudged his shoulder. “You had better leave, Inspector, and return at more suitable, daytime hour…”

 

Jack chuckled and pulled Phryne back down against him. “Alright alright,” he said. “I suppose we can risk it.”

  
  



End file.
